


You (do) know you want to call (me, don't you?)

by emotionalmorphine



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anonymous Sex, Conversion Therapy - Mentioned, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Modern Thedas, Parental Disapproval, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:40:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalmorphine/pseuds/emotionalmorphine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cullen is stuck in a rut. Coming to Haven had meant a fresh start, a new job away from Hawke, but two years later and Cullen can't even get a date. Josephine hands him a life jacket in the form of a little white card with the number to Inquisitive Minds, a gay sex chat line. Cullen rings and Dorian answers.</p>
<p>Written for the Dragon Age Big Bang 2015<br/>With illustrations by Noisy Kid</p>
            </blockquote>





	You (do) know you want to call (me, don't you?)

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos to my partner and artist supreme, [Noisy Kid](http://noisykid.tumblr.com), who was an absolute delight to work with and special thanks to [shadow0264](http://shadow0246.tumblr.com) for being my supportive sounding board and coming up with much better titles than I.
> 
> Don't forget to follow me on [Tumblr](http://emotionalmorphine.tumblr.com) for more fics and update news!

Cullen took the card from Josephine's fingers. She looked absolutely delighted with herself. Of course she would. To her, this was a brilliant idea.

"Just give them a call. Let off some steam. Let someone make you happy for once," Josephine said.

Cullen looked at the card. The numbers were printed in stark relief against the white card. Simple. Not like the scandalous ads that ran on TV late at night.

"I'm not ringing a...a...sex line!" Cullen said and tried to shove the card back at her. Josephine held her hands up and refused to take it.

"You make it sound so dirty."

"A gay sex line."

"I just know that the last time you even had a date was when you were with Hawke and that was over two years ago. Hawke moved on, why can't you?"

It wasn't that he couldn't move on. He had. Most days he didn't even think about Hawke. The breakup had been less than perfect but Cullen had moved on. He just...he didn't do dates. All the awkwardness and silences and flirting, it just wasn't him. The only reason he had started going out with Hawke was because Hawke had been so...forward. Arrogant, cocky, he demanded Cullen's time and love. There had been no awkward dates or strangled conversations with Hawke.

Why couldn't he find that again? Just with less cheating on him, because Cullen could do without that.

"I'm not ringing this number," he said resolutely.

Josephine sighed. She patted his arm like he was being a disobedient dog. "Just think about it. Go to work, work yourself silly like you always do, come home, and maybe you'll feel like winding down a bit and having a good time."

Cullen made a noncommittal sound and leaned forward to give Josie a kiss on the cheek. At one point he had thought that she and him would... It had seemed obvious. They were best friends. She loved him. It was just one more step into a relationship.

Cullen didn't want to think how that ended.

"Good luck," she said as she closed the door.

Cullen sighed and pulled his coat around him tighter. It was cold out tonight, the roads slippery with frost. His apartment would be freezing. The central heating was abysmal at best and the old heater he had was only effective if you sat on top of it.

It wasn't far to his flat. A couple of streets and around the corner. Less than 20 minutes. That didn't make the weather any better, though, and determined to ruin his life, it began to snow. He wished he had worn the scarf his sister got him last holidays - it was red and wonderfully warm.

Just like he thought, his flat was bitterly cold inside. He flicked the lights and turned the heater up to max. A cup of tea and the blanket off the couch would do the trick.

He pulled all the curtains closed, trying to seal in the heat. Dinner would have to wait until he could move his fingers again. Though he was fairly sure he had some leftover takeaway curry in the fridge from yesterday. He had meant to take it to work. It would've been nicer than the flat, tasteless sandwich he purchased instead.

With warm cup of tea in hand he sat himself right in front of the heater and tugged the blanket around his shoulders. It was an improvement. Not great, but getting there. He could feel his fingers again, at least.

He looked around his bland front room as he sipped his tea. There were some photos of him and Josie, and one of the Kirkwall gang. Another of his sister and her children, his brother and his parents. In the corner his potted palm, which his brother insisted 'livened up the place', was looking decidedly dry and wilted. He leaned back against the yellow coloured couch he had bought secondhand from his previous neighbour and switched on the TV. It was just as old as the couch, still one of those ones with the big back on it and a set of rabbit-ear antennae. It worked, though, and he had a DVD player, he wasn't completely left behind. He only had about three DVDs but he mostly had them for when the kids came around anyway.

When his fingers and hands were warmed he heated the curry and ate it standing in the kitchen from the foil packaging. Making a mess just meant he had to clean up. He trashed the container and the last of the soggy rice and finally braved the bedroom. He had another heater in here, mostly for the bathroom when he got out of the shower. Old habit of his mum's. Didn't hurt to turn it on now, though. Heat the room a bit.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, pulling out his phone and the various papers and paper clips he seemed to amass during the day and dropped them on the bedside cabinet. And there it was. The card. Such an innocuous little thing.

He turned his back on it, imagining Josie laughing at him, and shucked the rest of his clothes and then clambered into his pajamas. After turning out the lights and the heater in the lounge he was happy enough to bury himself in his bed, pulling the duvet up to his chin, just sticking his hands out so he could scroll through his phone. His hands would get cold again but he wasn't going to wear those silly gloves to bed.

No email, no messages, no missed calls. Just about summed up his life, really. Cullen looked at the empty side of his bed. No one had ever slept there. Maker, he was so out of practice he would probably embarrass himself in bed should he ever get anyone into it.

He dropped his phone next to his pillow and turned out the light.

He didn't know why he couldn't just go to a club and pick someone up. Josie was always saying he was a catch. He swung both ways, it should double his options. It wasn't even that he never got hit on - he did! But he didn't want to just entice someone back to his bedroom for a quick shag. He was 32 for Andraste's sake. He was over all of that. He wanted what he had with Hawke, back when it had been good, back when he thought they were in love. Living together, sharing morning showers, making breakfast for each other, reading the paper in effortless silence until they had to set off for work.

Yes, he missed the sex. They had great sex. Hawke was a tiger in the bedroom. He had an unending appetite for sex that Cullen had struggled to keep up with and, in the end, couldn't handle. Not alone, it seemed. Anders had picked up the slack and then took off with his life. Cullen didn't blame him. Anders was in love and Cullen was...less so. Hawke chose what he wanted and Cullen let him go.

Cullen smoothed his hand down the sheets under the duvet, feeling the cold side of the bed before drawing the spare pillow under and slinging his arm around it as he closed his eyes to sleep.

* * *

 

Days were much the same. He went to work, worked too hard like Josie said, and then went home. Wednesday and Friday he stopped off at Josie's after work, Saturday morning he played football, and Sunday he went to the gym if the kids weren't coming around with their mum. He walked to work and home every day, rain or shine (though mostly rain). Some of the lads offered to pick him up in a patrol car but he liked the exercise. The village of Haven was small enough he could do without a car altogether and he never much felt like going into the city.

Cassandra dropped a large pile of folders on his desk and then leaned against it as she watched him. "Josephine says you've been out of sorts."

Cullen sighed. Josie could gossip like it was her Maker given duty. "It's nothing. She's just worrying over nothing. She needs a cat or something to pour her unwanted attention upon."

Cassandra smirked. "I'll make sure to tell her that. Cullen, do you remember when you transferred here?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You said that if I ever felt like you couldn't complete your duties, then I was to replace you."

Cullen felt his heart fly into his throat. "You're... Was there some error? Did I handle the Leederville case badly?"

"What, no, don't be stupid. You're too good. You work too hard. Josephine worries about you as a friend. Make some more. Go meet someone."

He heard his pen drop onto the desk and then roll onto the floor. They really had been talking. "I wasn't aware my private life was of importance to my boss."

"It wouldn't be, if I didn't like you. But you caught their eye in Kirkwall and you're doing the same here. I want to support you. If you want to stay, in a couple years you could take over my position."

"You're going somewhere?" Cullen asked.

"The husband wants kids. I told him to wait another two years so we can pay some more off the mortgage. Seems sensible. Kids don't raise themselves on pennies. But if you want that, Cullen, you've got to show everyone you're a real person, not someone hardened by the job before he hits 40."

Being a cop wasn't easy. He knew that. And he had never really thought much about his career prospects after making Detective. He enjoyed his work, was good at it. But he admired Cassandra. She was a force of nature. And she had an enviable position in Haven. One he could imagine for himself.

"You don't need to shack up with some pretty thing and pop out some kids, but have a life outside of this place. Be spontaneous. What about the lads on the footy team?"

They were alright blokes. But none stuck in is mind as someone he would like to talk to. Blackwall was the only one Cullen knew for more than just his name and position. He was the blacksmith and worked out at on a farm with his brother-in-law, Dennet.

Cassandra patted him on the back with a hard thump and left him to it.

Cullen rubbed at his hair, ends curling around his fingertips until he smoothed them back. Maybe they were all right? Maybe he was in a rut. It certainly felt like a rut.

He couldn't get his mind off it for the rest of the day. Rut. He was in a rut. He had moved to Haven to be closer to Josie when he and Hawke split it off. It was closer to his sister, too. Kirkwall had been a long way for her to travel with three boisterous children in the car. She had never liked it there, either. He thought that he was starting again, new job, new flat, but everything had just sort of idled until now. And he knew he could do better.

He kicked off his boots near the door and went about his routine without pausing to warm himself in front of the heater. Tin of chunky chicken soup for dinner with a somewhat stale roll, eaten over the sink to catch the crumbs. He washed the bowl when he was done and switched off all the lights.

He would try it. What would it hurt to try? It was certainly something he wouldn't usually do, so it wasn't part of the rut. He changed out of his clothes and into his pajamas and crawled into bed. The sheets were freezing but it only set his resolve. He wanted to come home one day to a warm body between these sheets. And to do that he had to get out of this rut.

He dialed the number on the little white card. It would be expensive, of course. These places always were. It wasn't the money he was worried about, though. What should he say to this man? He didn't even know what he wanted. Wasn't even entirely certain why he was ring--

_"Hello, you've reached Inquisitive Minds. What's your name?"_

Cullen's mouth went dry. The voice at the end of the line sounded smooth as a purr. Foreign, accented, rich and warm. He felt a tingle run through his body.

_"Too shy to tell little ol' me your name? I don't bite, unless you want me to."_

"C-Cullen," he stuttered and only then figured he should have given a fake name. He was an officer of the law who...wasn't doing anything wrong.

_"Cullen,"_ the man said, as though he was trying the name in his mouth. _"And what do you like, Cullen?"_

Cullen stammered something nonsensical before shutting his mouth. He didn't know what he wanted. He couldn't imagine jacking himself off while this man talked to him down the line. So what did he want? "What's your name?" he asked finally.

There was silence for a moment on the opposite end, before, _"what do you want it to be?"_

Cullen rolled his eyes. Even he had heard that one. "Your name. Please."

Maybe there was something too pleading in his tone, something too honest, but the man swore something Cullen didn't understand under his breath and replied, _"Dorian. Just Dorian, though, no last names. I shouldn't even be telling you that."_

Dorian. Cullen mouthed the name and felt himself smile. "Just Dorian, then," he said. "I like it."

_"Do you now? I'm quite partial to it myself. I especially like to hear others moaning it in my ear."_

Cullen blushed. This was a sex chat line, after all. He wasn't having a conversation with an old friend.

_"Especially when they're shaking so hard they stammer over my name, backs arching and thighs tense as they come. Now Cullen, what would a man have to do to you to get that response?"_

Cullen clutched his phone tighter against his ear, aware that his breathing was ragged. After two years, it wouldn't take bloody much. "I've been through a bit of a dry spell... Well, a drought, honestly."

_"Ah, just my speciality. I bet you're so sensitive I could make you come just talking to you. I'm a cool drink in your desert,"_ Dorian said and Cullen could almost imagine the words touching him, stroking him soothingly. _"If I had you in person it would be so easy. You would be shaking by the time I worked your fly open, hard and wet and begging me to get you off. But uh-uh, not just yet. I'd run my hands over your neck, through your hair, nails raking down your chest. I would leave red marks down to your trousers and you would feel them the next day, knowing I was there to claim you."_

Cullen breathed in and his breath was just as shaky as before. He closed his eyes and rested his free hand on his belly, just touching the soft cotton of his shirt.

_"Do you like to be claimed, Cullen? Have someone else mark you? I bet I could leave marks all over your body, dark bruises you couldn't hide the next day and everybody would know what you had done but only you would know it was with me."_

Hawke used to mark him like that. Until he hadn't. Until it stopped.

_"I would strip you down to nothing and leave you aching, wanting me until you were pleading and I always reward good behaviour. I would sink my teeth into your thigh, slide my hands up to your arse and pull you against me, get your big cock in my mouth. You would be shaking, hands in my hair pulling hard as you fucked my mouth with that big dick of yours. Right into my throat."_

Cullen swallowed hard. He knew realistically the lines were something this man used over and over again, likely had a different script in mind for any situation, but they got into him like hooks, tugged at his insides and his hand tightened on his abdomen. He shoved the blankets down to his waist, heat pooling inside of him, his dick tenting his pajama bottoms. But he didn't dare touch himself.

_"Would you like that, Cullen? Fuck my mouth until I couldn't speak."_

"Yes," Cullen breathed out and he thought he heard himself moan, his hips twitching upwards, seeking pleasure that wasn't there.

_"Good. You could hold me close, force your cock down my throat until I couldn't breathe. Until I choked on you. And I would want it. More than anything. I would beg for your cock. You could come right down my throat and I would swallow it all, savor the taste of you, lick you clean until you couldn't take it. And I would want more. I would always want more."_

Cullen pressed his eyes shut and curled his hand into his T-shirt to stop it from straying, but he couldn't stop the jerking of his hips, the rhythm he seemed to have no control over. Maker, he wanted this so badly. He had no idea what Dorian even looked like. He was likely some pudgy guy at home in his pjs just like him. But in his mind he could see tanned skin, a great smile, and an arse to die for. He shoved his hand under his shirt and rucked it up to expose his sweat damp skin to the cool air, the heat stifling now, burning him up from the inside.

 

Art by [Noisy Kid](http://noisykid.tumblr.com).

_"I can't imagine it would be too difficult for you to get hard again. A drought, you said. We could make it rain together. And you're lucky, because I don't mind being shagged or doing the shagging. We could trade. But you would be so desperate, shaky hands and shaky knees from coming. I could push you back on the bed and have my way with you. I would love to hear your voice. I could make you scream. I bet you're the type to bite his pillow, bite his hand, anything to stop from moaning. But I want to hear it, Cullen. I'd want the neighbours to hear it as I fucked you into the mattress."_

Cullen felt his body seize and he cried out and he really hoped it wasn't Dorian's name. He flopped back onto the bed, feeling the wet, sticky mess inside of his pants. Sweet Andraste, he had just come from some guy talking at him. He hadn't even touched himself.

_"That's what I like to hear,"_ Dorian purred. _"How do you feel?"_

Cullen wasn't sure. He felt rather foolish. He wasn't a boy anymore. He was over 30 and he had just come in his pants listening to a dirty story. Did adults really do that? Maker, he felt ridiculous.

He quickly pressed to end the call and dropped the phone on his bed, still breathing hard, though now he wasn't entirely certain it was purely from arousal. Panic crept in at the seams.

It was still the best orgasm he had in ages. He couldn't deny that. A man got bored of his right hand trying to satisfy him. Cullen looked up at the ceiling and the aged paintwork. He couldn't quite get his head around what happened. He had just rung a sex chat line and a man had talked him into coming.

Josephine would never let him hear the end of this.

* * *

 

"You didn't...!" Josephine said as soon as she saw him. Maybe he had a certain look to him. Cassandra had said he looked like he had taken her advice. Josephine just knew.

"What was it like?" she asked and patted the couch next to her before jumping up to get tea.

Cullen took off his boots and jacket, folding his gloves into his pocket. Josie returned with his tea just how he liked it; milk with two sugars, not too dark but not too weak.

"I've never been so embarrassed in my entire life," Cullen lamented.

"Nonsense. What about when you and Hawke were caught with your pants down behind the Hanged Man?"

"I try to forget about that night."

"Then tell me. What was it like?"

Cullen tried to think how he could explain Dorian. He didn't know what the man looked like, just that his voice sounded like the smoothest coffee and he spoke like a lust demon of old.

"I wish you knew if they were handsome or not," Josie said and pouted. "I know some girls who work for the lines and they're not anything special."

Cullen didn't want to think that. In his mind, Dorian was special. He wanted to keep it that way. "His voice was...smooth. Like a purr. And when he said my name it was like he really meant it."

"He must be popular," Josie sighed. "Not much chance getting him again."

"I am never ringing again."

"Oh, Cullen. You enjoyed yourself, you got off, and you seem miles happier. Why not just ring back?"

"It was ridiculous. I'm a grown man, not some horny teenage boy. I didn't even touch myself, Josie. He just...talked me into it."

"Oh my. Perhaps I should call. He might be bisexual, or at least know how to sell the lie."

Cullen rubbed at his hair and neck in frustration. "It's not what I want. I don't want some cheap fuck. I could get that. I want--"

"I know. But start with this, okay? Just start with this."

Cullen had to take her advice. He didn't know what else to do. He didn't know how to pick up at clubs, didn't know how to ask someone he knew on a date, hell, even Internet dating seemed horribly complicated to him.

He ate his lonely dinner over the sink and climbed into bed at ten, like usual. But this time he didn't hesitate reaching for his phone. The number was in the recent history and he let it dial again. After a number of rings, a voice answered. It wasn't Dorian.

He couldn't really understand his disappointment. He had only spoken to the man once, even if he did give Cullen one of his best orgasms in years.

It was worth a shot. "I wish to speak to Dorian," he said.

The person on the other end was silent for a moment. _"Dorian...? We don't, ah, have--"_

Cullen was a cop. He knew when someone was lying, especially when they were bad at it. "Can you just put me through?"

" _J-just a minute. We're not supposed to-- hang on."_

Cullen waited, knowing what must be going on behind the scenes. It probably was stupid, him doing this. He should have just talked to the stammering kid. But then the phone clicked and a laughing voice answered.

_"Hello, my dear Cullen,"_ Dorian said.

"How did you know it was me?" Maker's arse, this was the stupidest thing he had ever done. Dorian probably thought Cullen was stalking him, that he was never going to leave him alone now. That was what Cullen would think.

_"Of course you would return. You left so rudely last night. I was hoping for an apology. You bruised my very delicate ego."_

"I apologize. I..." Had a crisis of conscious?

Dorian laughed again and Cullen found himself smiling. _"I didn't actually mean for you to apologize. You think you were the first confused man to hang up on me?"_

"Still, it was rude of me. I should have thanked you and wished you a well night."

_"Well we certainly are a gentleman,"_ Dorian said and he sounded appreciative. _"Not something I come across too regularly."_

"There's hardly ever reason to be rude."

Dorian made a swooning sound. _"Don't say too much, I'll wish for you all the more. I've been waiting for my Prince Charming to come."_

Cullen blushed, glad that he was alone in his room. No one had to know.

_"So, my dear Cullen, you never told me just how long this drought of yours has lasted. Is it an emergency? Shall I call for civil action?"_

"...two years."

_"Two years? Sweet Maker, are you sure you're all right? Should we check you into a hospital? That can't be good for your health."_

Cullen laughed. "I've lived this far. My, uhh, boyfriend left me. Was seeing someone else on the side and picked him."

_"But two years, man. No wonder you called me. You were lucky to be put onto the expert, not some of these new recruits we get. Wouldn't know a pen from a dick, if you ask me."_

Cullen couldn't quite believe he was paying by the minute to talk to Dorian about his ex-boyfriend and the new staff at the call centre, but here he was. And he was enjoying it. Dorian made a joke about one of the new men running out after a caller wanted to call him 'mummy' and Cullen found himself smiling again.

He could imagine Dorian would talk with his hands, grand guestures for grand ideas, the final snap of his wrist to punctuate a point. He would find it hard to sit still, unless maybe he was reading. Cullen could imagine him reading, but in his mind he still couldn't assign any features to the man.

"What colour is your hair?" Cullen interrupted.

_"My hair? Black. Were you expecting it to be pink?"_

"No, I just... I was just wondering."

_"What else were you wondering? 6 and a half inches, before you ask."_

Cullen felt the blush creep up to his ears. He hadn't necessarily been wondering about that. "I was thinking more what colour your eyes were?" he asked sheepishly.

_"How positively boring. They're grey, like storm clouds. Quite lovely, really. Should I be concerned that you've taken an interest in my person?"_

Cullen covered his mouth with his hand and bit his finger. He was too obvious. "I was trying... I wondered... Put a face to a name. If that's all right?"

_"And what a handsome face it is. I've seen it quite often. Your imagination could not do me justice."_

Cullen laughed and doubled over, holding the phone close to his ear. The picture in his head of Dorian was not much clearer, except now he could imagine dark hair and luminous eyes on what was apparently a handsome face.

"...can I call again? Sometime. I have to go but...I'd like to call again." Cullen felt his stomach roll. What if Dorian said no. What if he felt threatened by Cullen's attention. It must be a hazard of the job.

_"I shall expect you to call again. I have my own questions I need answered."_

"Really? Great. That's great. I'll call again. Good night, Dorian. Stay well."

When Cullen hung up this time he had a pleased smile on his face. He knew this couldn't go anywhere but he was talking to another person, maybe it was even practice for talking to a real date.

* * *

 

The third time he spoke to Dorian, Dorian was full of questions. He wanted to know what colour Cullen's hair was, what colour his eyes were, his skin tone, his build, even which aftershave he used. The fourth time Cullen spoke about Hawke and how he had left him for Anders. Dorian told him he was better off without a cheater. Hawke should have had the grace to break up with Cullen first before pursuing another relationship. The idea seemed to agitate him and he spent the rest of the phone call telling Cullen that he was worth more than cheating bastards.

It became their thing to speak to each other every night. Cullen would come home and climb into bed and dial the number. The other workers knew to put him straight through to Dorian. And over the weekends, Cullen found he missed the late night discussions, having trouble sleeping and waking early and grumpy.

He had to keep his conversations with Dorian short. It was costing him money, after all, which really was the only thing keeping him grounded. Of course Dorian would prefer to speak to him instead of some pervert who wanted to pretend Dorian was his son (Cullen had heard all sorts of stories now of the depravity of those who called sex lines). Cullen hated to think what his phone bill would be at the end of the month but, truth was, he had the money to pay it. He had a good job; he lived like this because it was convenient and isolated, not because he was strapped for cash.

Monday night, Cullen eagerly dialed the number he had memorized by now. It was Dorian who answered, but with far less enthusiasm in his usual phone manner.

"Dorian? What's wrong?" Cullen asked straight off the bat.

_"Wrong? Oh nothing to worry your sweet head about. Dear man, worrying about me. I am continually amazed that you are so tragically single."_

"We've discussed my inability to talk to people."

_"But you're so delightfully awkward. It's so endearing. I enjoy making you fluster. I assume you blush like a tomato."_

Cullen sighed and that was all the affirmative Dorian required.

_"I do enjoy making men blush. Such a lovely swell of pink to their cheeks. I find it usually spreads other places when similarly effected."_

Cullen wished he didn't know what Dorian was talking about. Hawke had always laughed at the flush of pink on his chest and neck when they were having sex. He couldn't help it, it just happened.

"You still haven't told me what's wrong," Cullen said. "Don't try to distract me. It only seems fair after I put all of my problems on you."

_"But that is what you pay for. You don't pay me to moan about my life."_

"I think I pay you to do what I ask. Besides, I would like to know if I could help."

Dorian laughed but it was pained. _"Help, he says. Knight in shining armour. Just my luck, it seems. All right, dear Cullen. I met with my father today. He continues to try push an arranged marriage on me even though he knows quite well of my proclivities. He believes once I am married to the woman she will somehow change my sexuality and make me want to produce offspring with her. I want no part of it."_

Cullen huffed beneath his breath. His parents knew of his own dalliances, both male and female, and never once had they shown that they cared one way or another. Sometimes Mia urged him to settle down with a woman so that he might have some children of his own but she understood that he would choose who he chose.

_"It's the reason I do this, you see. Father cut me off until I 'act like a man' and continue the family name. I'm his only heir. He's very invested in heirs and the family and good social standing and here I am, pissing all that away."_

"You can't help who you are," Cullen said.

_"He seems to think of it like I have a bug that needs to be expunged. He has tried methods before. Needless to say, none of them worked. Still gay as a bowl of daisies."_

"He tried to--" Cullen covered his mouth. He knew what some people did to their children in order to try force them straight. Brain washing and pills were just the start.

_"I left him to mother and made it on my own. I didn't choose to contact him, but he has very good connections. He will always find me."_

"I'm so sorry, Dorian. If you ever need help, I--" He couldn't tell Dorian he was a cop. It would scare him off. It would ruin what they had. "You can go to the police."

_"The man has done nothing wrong, just wishes to see his estranged son. No cop would begrudge him that right."_

Cullen had seen things go wrong. Many times. His mind drifted back to Kinloch mental health ward and he felt nausea swell over him. He had been powerless to stop what had happened there. He vowed that he would never be powerless again.

"Dorian, if I tell you something, please tell me you won't think I've lied to you. I've wanted to talk to you-- I like talking with you. No other reason."

_"Now you have scared me, my dear."_

"If for any reason you feel unsafe, any reason at all, you can go to the nearest station or call the police and ask for me. My name is Detective Sergeant Cullen Rutherford. And I will help you."

Dorian was silent for some time, the only sound his breathing to let Cullen know he was still there. Of course he had messed this up. Of course.

_"You're a cop,"_ Dorian said finally.

"Yes but I never rang... It never had anything to do with it. Maker, what have I said. You're not in an trouble from the police."

Silence again. Cullen chewed at his nail, wishing Dorian would just say something.

_"You work for my father, don't you?"_

Cullen frowned. "What? No! I don't even know him. I don't even know your last name--"

_"Stay away from me and tell father dear that his latest attempt to control me was wretched at best."_

Cullen listened to the dial tone on the phone before dropping it on the bedspread. What had he done?

* * *

 

"You knew it couldn't last," Josephine said, yelling over the loud music in the club. Cullen wasn't sure he liked her idea for cheering up but there was alcohol and she was paying. Two drinks were deposited in front of them and Josie handed over the cash. They stepped down from the bar into the throng of sweaty people clamoring for a place. The music was deafening and Cullen didn't recognize any of the music that the people in the club were swaying to happily. He just felt old. Old and useless and unwanted.

"Remember to smile, Cullen," Josie yelled into his ear. She had specifically brought him to Redcliffe to visit this club. Normally they just went to the pub in the village. But she called this an emergency.

Cullen felt like he had been broken up with. Like he had lost a friend. He had become so close talking with Dorian every night. But he supposed it was silly. Talking to someone on a sex line and paying through the nose for the privilege. It couldn't have gone on forever.

"That guy is giving you the look," Josie said and gestured towards a man in a dark turtleneck who was looking at Cullen covetously. But he knew those types and no thanks. He shook his head to Josie and she sighed, as though Cullen physically pained her sometimes.

Cullen finished his drink all too quickly, and then two more. Josie didn't try stop him, not before he got drunk anyway. She knew the perfect time to switch him to water before he started barfing. But with enough alcohol plying his system Cullen dragged Josephine out onto the dance floor between sweaty bodies and under moving disco lights. The songs suddenly didn't matter. Dorian didn't matter. The guy that just grabbed his ass didn't matter. Josephine laughed and he smiled back, finally at ease.

A few, maybe a dozen, songs in and Cullen mimed going for water, leaving Josephine to the dance floor. She was perfectly safe. Josie had a mean right hook. He headed for the bar, stumbling only a couple of steps where the floor was sticky. He got a glass of water and greedily sucked it down, some of it spilling down his chin and onto his white Tee. He turned to return to Josie and instead collided straight into a man carrying his drink. It spilled all down the front of Cullen's shirt, plastering it to his already sweaty body. He looked up and felt his heart quicken in his chest. The man was gorgeous. Dark eyes and a mole right at the corner, full lips, and beautiful soft-looking dark skin covered in tattoos. He had an earring in one ear and the other lobe held a spacer, further piercings up to the top of his ear, and two piercings in one nostril, one a stud and the other a small gold hoop. He was fit in just the right way, not muscled but defined, and he seemed elegant with gold bangles, a tight gold cuff around his bicep and the most curiously curled moustache he had ever seen. Cullen didn't know the band on his black, sleeveless shirt, but he did know that he had never wanted to remove a pair of tight black pants more in his life.

"I'm sorry!" Cullen yelled above the music and gestured to his shirt and the glass the man was holding. His ears were already ringing from the loud music. He could barely hear a thing. He reached into his pocket and offered the man some money but he shook his head and pushed the offering back to Cullen. The glass was set aside and the man came closer, placing his hot hand on the patch of drying alcohol on Cullen's chest. Cullen felt his heart racing. This is what he wanted. Someone forward, someone to take the lead and ignore his bumbling awkwardness. The man reached up - he wasn't much shorter than Cullen, really - and looped his arm around Cullen's neck, leaning up to brush his nose against his collar. Cullen couldn't imagine he smelled any good covered in alcohol and sweat but the man smiled at him and pulled him back towards the dance floor, arm still looped around his neck, clearly claiming him.

Cullen spotted Josie and she gave him an excited grin and the thumbs up. His attention was drawn back with a sure hand on his cheek and then hot lips against his. Cullen groaned and grabbed at the stranger's waist, holding him close as the kiss grew heated. He could taste the alcohol the man had been drinking and the minty aftertaste of gum or toothpaste. Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, pulling Cullen closer and for a moment it seemed as though the whole club disappeared. Cullen's head was swimming but it wasn't entirely to do with the alcohol. It was this man, who smelled of books and coffee and sex. And Cullen wanted more. He reached around and gripped the man's arse, which earned him a pleased smirk and another kiss.

Hips ground against his and there was no denying either of their need, erections straining against zips. The man's hand drifted down and smoothed over Cullen's trousers and he just about fell over, one of his knees buckling. The man laughed but the sound was swallowed up by the club. Cullen knew where this was leading. A one night stand. Something he had put off for so long. But maybe it was just another step on the journey out of his rut. He had called a sex line. Had come to a club. Going home with an incredibly hot stranger wouldn't be the end of the world.

The man motioned towards the door but rubbed his other hand along the line of Cullen's dick. Cullen nodded and they made for the exit. It was only when they were piling into a taxi that Cullen remembered Josie.

"Maker! Josie. I left her there! Oh sweet Maker."

The stranger's hand dug into Cullen's pocket and pulled out his cell phone and pressed it to Cullen's chest with a wry grin. Of course. Cullen dialed her and waited impatiently for her to pick up, wondering if she could even hear the phone in the club.

_"Cullen? Where did you go? Sweet Andraste, are you going to get laid?"_

"Yes. You can go home. I'm sorry I left you. Oh Maker, what if something happens?"

_"Don't worry, I'm already in a cab."_ It was definitely quieter on the other end. _"You have to tell me all about it as soon as you get home. Enjoy yourself, okay?"_

"Yeah, I will. Maker's Breath, Josie, he's gorgeous," Cullen said and then realized what he had said aloud as the man looked back over his shoulder from where he was giving the address to the cabbie.

Josie laughed. _"Good. You deserve someone gorgeous. Fuck him silly. Bye!"_

Before Cullen could ask any more questions the phone had been slipped from his hand and it disappeared into the stranger's pocket. Their lips found each other again and a hot hand rubbed at Cullen's thigh. Maker, he was achingly hard. He tried to lean closer but the man pushed him back to his seat with another soul searing kiss. The hand on his thigh crawled up and under his damp shirt, stroking at the trail of hair below his navel and then climbing higher. Nails clawed at his chest and Cullen gasped into the kiss.

Cullen was barely even certain the taxi had gone anywhere before it was pulling to a stop. The stranger pulled some money from his pocket - definitely more than the fare - and handed it to the driver before bailing out onto the sidewalk. Cullen had far more difficulty crawling from the taxi, his legs shaky. But a strong body helped him stand and drew him back into a quiet house. It was warm inside, nothing like his own flat, but in the dark Cullen couldn't see anything of the place. Shoes were kicked off at the door and he was led up a set of stairs he kept tripping on, hearing a soft, almost silent laugh every time he did.

Cullen wanted to talk to the man but the silence wrapped around them and he was sure if he spoke he would somehow break something important. They didn't need words. They needed touch.

The man stood before him and reached up to slip Cullen's T-shirt over his arms. It was still damp and hit the wooden floor with a wet slap. The man leaned forward, pressing his lips to Cullen's chest, chasing the lingering taste of alcohol before moving down until he was on his knees. Cullen shivered and the man rubbed against his cock through his jeans, finding the line of it and mouthing the denim. The button popped and the zip came down and Cullen found himself shaking. It had been so damn long. What if he embarrassed himself? He might come in his pants again like a teenager.

The thought was chased away when his trousers and pants were pulled down and off, thrown to join the shirt on the ground. The man looked up at him, taking Cullen in, a soft hand gliding up his calf and to his thigh. Cullen gasped as the man bit at his thigh, leaving a definite mark when he pulled away. He pressed at it and Cullen hissed, grabbing the man by the hair to pull him closer. The stranger grinned and rubbed his cheek to the long line of Cullen's dick and the turned to lick a stripe from base to tip. Cullen groaned, legs shaking. When the man's lips covered his tip he almost yelled. When was the last time he had someone suck him? Sweet Maker, he didn't even remember.

"Maker's Breath," he cursed as the man swallowed him down, sucking at his dick, tongue working around him. He felt the man go lower until his nose was nestled in Cullen's pubic hair, cock hitting the back of the man's throat. Cullen moaned and the man withdrew just a touch before sliding his hands up to Cullen's arse. And then he pulled. Cullen got the idea. He drew his hips back fractionally before thrusting back in. The man groaned around him and Cullen was surprised he didn't lose it at the sound. He thrust back in to that perfect mouth, soft hair between his fingers. He could feel himself drawing close, trying to limit how hard he thrust forward. Instead, the man grabbed his arse again and pulled him forward until Cullen's cock found the back of his throat. The man swallowed around him and looked up and Cullen lost it. He moaned and doubled over, still holding that soft hair between his fingers as he came down the back of the man's throat. It was the most erotic thing he had ever done in real life. Hawke would have never... Andraste's arse, he didn't even care about Hawke. The man was licking at his spent cock, cleaning away any trace of come, tongue poking at the slit until Cullen had to push him away when it all became too much.

He dropped to his knees beside the man and pulled him into a crushing kiss, tasting himself now mixed with the alcohol of before. Desperate hands were in his hair and Cullen grabbed at the man's shirt, pulling it up and over his head to toss away to the side. Gold hoops pierced through the man's nipples and Cullen raised his hand to touch one. He had never seen anything like it in real life. The man pulled on the other hoop and Cullen felt his breath catch in his throat. They scrambled up onto the bed, wrestling off tight black trousers, and the man pressed Cullen back so that he could take his time, hands exploring the expanse of Cullen's chest, nails dragging hot lines down to his navel. He would have bruises tomorrow. Bruises where the man dug his fingers in, bit at his neck, claimed and marked him. Cullen just pulled him closer, brought the man against him until all he could feel was perfect slick skin and the duvet against his back.

He could feel the man's cock against his hip, grinding against his skin in a lazy, stuttering pattern. Not intending to get off, just to feel good. Cullen commended his own body's valiant efforts to get hard again, the swell of arousal pressing deep inside of him and burning in his spine. The man seemed happy to wait, giving Cullen all his attention with little regard for himself. He bit at Cullen's earlobe and pulled just enough to wrench a hiss from Cullen's mouth. It wasn't pain, it was too good to be pain. It was like the nails scratching his skin, the fingers digging into his flesh, a wanted pain. It kept him grounded because he felt like he could float away. Cullen clung to the man's shoulders, hanging on, but then he was pulling away and Cullen couldn't believe the needy noise that came from his own throat as he reached for the man. He was rewarded with a quiet laugh and a pat on the leg as the man leaned over to the side table and into the drawer for a tube and condom that he waggled in Cullen's direction.

Maker, yes. Cullen nodded fervently. He wanted that gorgeous cock inside of him. He hadn't been fucked in two goddamn years. He moved to turn over but a slender hand stopped him, pressing down on his abs and then tracing the line of the muscles. Even better. Cullen liked personal. He liked looking at his partner. And this guy was nothing to sneer at. Maker, Cullen could look at him all day. He reached up and stroked his fingers over the cute mole beside the man's right eye, drawing his thumb across it.

Cullen drew his legs up as the man delved lower past his eagerly hardening cock. He didn't even flinch as cold, slick fingers stroked against him. Cullen wanted it too much. He could hear his own breathing, gasps of air that he had to fight for the way his chest clenched. A soothing hand stroked down his side and a finger slid inside of him. Cullen made a small noise, not of pain, not even discomfort. It was tight but the man was working him open with a skilled hand and when he slipped another finger inside, Cullen barely even noticed. He liked the stretch, the full feeling. Hawke had hardly ever let him top but that had been no hardship. Cullen liked to surrender himself, to let someone else take care of him, just as he let this guy now.

Shining eyes looked down at him and Cullen nodded. He was good. Great. Another moan wrung from his body by skilled hands, three fingers slipping inside of him. He could feel the lube sliding down his arse, dampening the duvet. He almost wanted to apologize for the mess. If he thought the guy cared, Cullen would have, but the man was watching him intently as he worked his fingers deep.

Sensation lit up behind Cullen's eyes as they fell shut. The sparks of pleasure rippled inside of him as fingers dragged along his prostate. There was something he hadn't felt in a good long while. He hitched his knees higher, drawing his legs up, coaxing the man forward. "I'm good," Cullen gasped, voice choked and taut.

He pulled at his own curly hair as the man pushed into him, more lube soaking into the duvet beneath Cullen. His mouth froze on a silent word of pleasure and his eyes drooped closed. He couldn't help it, wanting to focus on the feeling of being stretched open, filled and claimed inch by inch.

Lips grazed against his and Cullen wrapped his arms around the man's shoulders. "Sweet Maker..." Cullen said rough against the man's ear and Cullen felt him rumble with unheard laughter. Cullen could feel it shake him inside, like it came from his own chest. He flopped back against the bed as a strong hand pushed him down, holding him there with fingers splayed across his collarbones. He let himself be taken. Each slide of the man's cock into his body a pleasant ache, a perfect fit. Sensation curled his toes and made him dig his hands into the duvet, quiet moans pulled from his body as his chest heaved. Cullen stuck his fist to his mouth and bit down as he groaned, his hips finding a rhythm with each hitch of the man's hips, flesh pressing to Cullen's arse, a slap of sound in the quiet room.

Cullen opened his eyes when his hand was drawn from his mouth. No, Andraste, he was so loud. Hawke always teased him. But the man curled their fingers together and Cullen cried out as he pressed deep.

"Oh, Maker's breath! Just--" Cullen squeezed the man's hand in his. "Fuck me. Hard. Please."

He got a wry smile in response, like the man didn't believe he could take it. But he got his wish, hands grasping his hips tight. Cullen gasped as the man pounded into him, fucking him into the mattress, the bed creaking and groaning and slamming into the wall. Cullen wasn't even sure what he said, the words he cried out as he took it, sparks flying behind his eyes. He didn't even feel drunk any more, just high on sex. He went to wrap his hand around his dick but it was slapped away and his frustration turned into a sob of need. He could feel his body clenching, balls drawing up and he couldn't warn the man. He came with his back arched and fingers clawing at the guy's shoulder, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes.

Cullen's whole body felt limp. Disconnected. He couldn't even feel his toes. Just the hot body above him and the cock splitting him open. Cullen reached up with a shaky hand and drew the man down for a kiss that ended in a groan of satisfaction as the guy came. Cullen wrapped his arms around sweaty shoulders and brought the man against him. They breathed together, chests pressed tight. Cullen couldn't remember the last time he had come so hard. He could feel the sticky mess between them but he wasn't sure he cared.

He felt empty as the man pulled out of him, and knew he would be sore tomorrow, but it was just one more thing he didn't care about. A cloth was dragged across his stomach, wiping away his come and the duvet was drawn from under him along with sheets.

Sleep sounded wonderful. Too good to be true. He hadn't felt so relaxed in years. Cullen managed to crawl his way up to the head of the bed, his eyes closing as soon as he hit the soft pillow. But he managed a smile as warm arms pulled him close, fingers working into his hair as the duvet was pulled over them both. This is what he wanted. The mental abandon, this physical closeness and he settled his head next to the man's shoulder. He would face the awkwardness in the morning.

* * *

 

A warm arm wrapped around his chest and Cullen buried himself closer to the body heat. He might be a sentimental fool but it was the best way to wake up. Arms around him and soft kisses in the morning light. It was late already, he could tell, but in place of a hangover his body felt deliciously used, muscles tired and sore from a good workout.

Lips pressed against his temple and kisses followed down his forehead and cheeks. Cullen smiled and turned, capturing the lips with his own. He didn't worry about things like morning breath, not once a guy had his dick in his mouth. Seemed a bit redundant.

A chiming broke their intimacy. The man grumbled and he seemed set to ignore it but the door bell rang again, and then again. He grumbled under his breath and pulled away from Cullen, pulling the duvet up to keep the warmth in and then pulling on last night's jeans. No shirt. Cullen could admire the lean figure and the large tattoo of a ram's skull on his back.

Not entirely keen on the idea of disturbing this peace, Cullen curled himself in the warmth of the bed and dozed, eyes easily falling shut, right up until he heard a man's raised voice. It made him itchy in a way confrontation always did. He knew he shouldn't interfere but Maker, what if this guy already had a boyfriend? What if they were arguing about him right now?

He slipped out of the bed and pulled on his clothes, including the stained white Tee he had on the night before. He grabbed his phone from where it had been placed on the side table and slid it into his pocket, checking the other for his wallet.

Cullen quietly made his way down the stairs and saw the two men in the front room arguing. Or rather, the older man was yelling and the guy Cullen had become so intimate with was taking it.

"Just come home, son. Cast this nonsense aside. You're worrying your mother. She's been ill over all of this. We can forget all this ever happened. Livia is a nice girl. I think you'll like her if you give her the chance. She's willing to forget about these...mistakes."

"Mistakes?" the young man asked incredulously.

"It's time to step up and be an adult. This has gone on long enough, Dorian."

Cullen froze. Dorian...? It couldn't be. But Dorian had told him all about his father and the arranged marriage just as this man was referencing. Something tight held his chest ransom and he couldn't find any air. He stepped into the lounge and both men saw him. Dorian's eyes were downcast and he couldn't look at Cullen.

"Another one, Dorian?" his father asked. "This is how you spend your weekends? Sullying the family name?"

Cullen frowned. He intended to leave, going for the door, when he felt a pang of recognition. He turned back and looked the older man over. "Halward Pavus," he said.

The older man turned to him, regarding him properly for the first time. Cullen knew the moment Halward realized who he was addressing. "Detective. How...pleasant...to see you."

"You know each other?" Dorian asked, his voice small, confused.

"Your father has recently been a...person of interest...in a number of cases throughout Redcliffe and Val Royeaux. But you had best ask him for more information."

Halward frowned deeply at the obvious accusation. He said nothing else to Dorian, either. "It seems I have interrupted something," he said. "Good day, Detective. My son."

Cullen was glad to see the back of him as he stormed out of the house, door banging closed behind him. The man was a snake, involved in all sorts of things from prostitution to fraud. All carefully hidden, of course. Pinning a case on him was near impossible.

"So," Dorian said. It brought Cullen back to his own current predicament.

It was Dorian. Had been Dorian. The whole time. Every touch, every kiss. Dorian had fucked him last night.

Maker, and wasn't he just exactly like Cullen had imagined. He hadn't thought about tattoos or gold jewelry but they suited him, his body a perfect canvas. One he had touched and held and wanted more of when he woke.

"You know who I am," Cullen said. It was the truth. He could see it in Dorian's eyes. He hadn't been surprised. He had sought Cullen out at that club.

"Yes, I suppose I do, Detective Sergeant Cullen Rutherford. Certainly scared my father away. I've never seen him leave a room quicker. I should thank you - you saved me from at least an hour long lecture."

"...why didn't you say anything?" Cullen asked. He drew his arms around himself, feeling entirely foolish as he stood in Dorian's front room with its soft silver furnishings and green house plants and big screen TV.

"I thought you were working for him. That you had traced me to the club. But you didn't approach me, didn't even look at me. I knew it was you. All I had to do was smell your aftershave and I knew it was you."

Cullen had told Dorian everything about him. How he looked, how he dressed, what kind of shampoo he used, even his aftershave brand. Because Dorian had asked and it had made Cullen feel important. Special in a way he hadn't felt in a long time.

"But why didn't you just say something? You should have told me."

"I couldn't miss the only opportunity I might have with you. Come now, my man, you a successful officer and me a phone sex operator. One who yelled at you last time you called. I thought one night of incredibly hot anonymous sex and you could go on your way. You were amidst a terrible drought."

"Do you really think I care that you're a phone sex operator? Dorian, I spoke to you every night for two weeks, my phone bill is ridiculous."

Dorian picked at something on his nail and fussed with his hair. Even mussed from sex and sleep he looked spectacular.

"I must admit I became quite enamoured with you," Dorian said. "A perfect Prince calling little ol' me. Just like a Julia Roberts film. But I am well versed with fantasy and I try not to live it. I did you a service and now you can continue on your merry way to meet the lovely girl of your dreams and build a perfect life together and live happily ever after."

Cullen sucked in a breath. He wasn't even sure how to deal with so much self doubt and hatred. "You know there's nothing wrong with what you are. Or what you do. It's not wrong. There is no right or wrong, there just is."

Dorian flicked his hand, instantly dismissing his claims. "Oh, Prince Charming, you do know just what to say. But living in the real world is a little harsher than all that. Last night was fantastic and I will be sure to have fond memories, but it can't go on."

"I should go," Cullen said quietly. He didn't know what he wanted. He wasn't mad Dorian had kept his identity a secret from him. It has been a great night of hot sex without any strings. He just wished he had slipped out earlier this morning and avoided this whole situation. The memory now felt stale in his mouth, like the alcohol he drank last night still sloshing in his belly.

Dorian had been his perfect imaginary partner. Forward and beautiful and full of brash ego that hid a warm soul. He had never admitted that over the phone, knowing it was weird. He knew nothing of Dorian except what he decided to share. It was obvious Cullen had given far more. Cullen just hated the fact that his fantasy was so close to reality.

Dorian saw him out. They didn't touch, didn't kiss, and Cullen walked to the corner before calling a taxi, not wanting to stand at Dorian's gate waiting.

He slid into the warm taxi and dialed Josie's number. It was late enough that she would be up, probably just coming back from her swim at the pools.

_"Cullen? How did it go? I'm so excited - he was so handsome!"_

"It was Dorian," Cullen interrupted. "He recognized me. And he never told me. But it was Dorian."

_"But... Didn't you know it was him? You talked every night."_

"He never spoke. We were...otherwise occupied. I had no idea until about 15 minutes ago when his father visited to yell at him."

_"Dorian... I can't believe it! Why didn't he say anything? It sounded like you two were close."_

Cullen sighed. He had thought that but now he wasn't sure. Dorian said he had been attracted to him but he didn't want anything else from this. Didn't think he could have anything else. "He's got a fairly low opinion on himself. Thinks now that I've broke my dry spell I'll run off with some bird and get married."

Josephine laughed. _"While that could happen I think you're already invested with someone else."_

Cullen slid in his seat, banging his head against the leather. "He's perfect, Josie. It's like I imagined a perfect guy and he came to life."

_"Oh, dear thing. Perhaps just give him time to miss you. Remember what a catch you are. He'll come around."_

Dorian didn't even have his number. Didn't know where he lived. There was no way he was seeing him again, and Cullen wouldn't force him.

He went back to his quiet apartment with the crappy central heating and looked around. It was lonely and impersonal. No soft furnishings or fancy drapes, a dead pot plant and a gloom that Cullen had never realized had set over his life.

He started by ditching the pot plant.

* * *

 

"You've changed," Cassandra said to him. "I approve."

Cullen looked up from his case file. He supposed he had. He was out of his rut, at least, and it felt better. For the first time it felt like he was living a new life in Haven, not just stalling and looking back at Kirkwall. Kirkwall was gone and he owed this life his participation.

"I heard you bought a car?" Cassandra continued.

"Had to. Couldn't have everything delivered to the new place. It's nice, one of the new hybrid models."

Cassandra made an approving sound. "There's talk of putting you up for promotion. Best get your training in order. Don't give them an opportunity to pass you up." Cassandra gave him a pat on the shoulder before leaving him to it. He had reports to turn in before he went out for the night. He was meeting Josie and a couple of her friends for drinks at 6.

"Sarge?"

"Come in." He didn't look up from his paperwork.

"There's a man... Says he needs to talk to you. About the Pavus case, Sir."

Cullen looked up this time. Any lead on pinning down Halward Pavus was reason to investigate. "Take him to Interview Room 2 and get him a coffee or tea. Make him comfortable. I'll be right there." Cullen gathered his files. They had interviewed all kinds of people - dealers, pimps, warehouse owners, even delivery drivers, all trying to get a lead back to Pavus. The man was smart. He ran an empire out of Tevinter and knew he could flee home for protection.

Cullen pushed open the door and then stopped. The top file slid from his hold and dropped onto the ground.

Dorian.

He looked just as good in the months Cullen hadn't seen him. Tight jeans and a comfortable looking brown jumper, perfectly groomed hair, and gold piercings glinting in the light. He gave Cullen a weak smile and held up the cup of coffee in a takeaway cup in appreciation. Cullen retrieved his file, using the moment to take a deep breath. Sweet Maker, he was still so attracted to him. Could smell him from here - old books and coffee. And not the terrible coffee they served at the station, no, expensive, silky smooth coffee, the type served in trendy cafes with mismatched chairs and old movie posters on the walls.

"You're here about your father," Cullen said and placed the files on the table as he sat across from Dorian in the hard metal chair.

"Yes, well you see, my father has been rather persistent lately in his need for me to produce an heir. I have not appreciated the kidnapping or druggings."

"Are you okay?" Cullen found himself asking, leaning forward, wanting to reach for him.

"As much as one can be. He had me admitted to a clinic, and I use the word incredibly dubiously. A place for reformation of homosexuals. It was not enjoyable. I seem to remember you said I could ask for...help. As much as my ego insists I do no such thing."

"Of course. Dorian, of course. You should have come sooner."

"I didn't wish to see my father ruined before now. I would suggest you perhaps bring in your supervisor or the others working on this case. I have enough information on my father's dealings to make sure he rots in prison." Dorian grinned and Cullen found himself smiling back.

True to his word, Dorian exposed every last detail of his father's business practices. Right down to the dodgy accountants he used, the illegal and unaccounted for offshore holdings, and where he kept his incriminating documents. He spoke on record of his father's treatment of him and the facility he had been taken to against his will. Cullen stood by him the entire time, brought him fresh coffee from the cafe across the street, sandwiches and chocolates to keep him going over the following days. The station was a hive of activity. Cullen had never seen so many people in his sleepy little village hub. Dorian insisted that Cullen remain in charge of the investigation until it went to the different departments. When it was out of his hands, Cullen let out a long sigh of thanks. It was an international scandal. Halward Pavus and his partners had hooks in businesses in Rivain, Orlais, Nevarra, along with Fereldan and Tevinter.

It was on all the news, in all the papers, and Dorian was sequestered away for his safety and privacy. Taken where not even Cullen could see him. But he could call.

* * *

 

_"It's so dreary here. Do you think they choose these hotels with sheer boredom in mind?"_ Dorian complained.

Cullen smiled. They had been speaking every night for a week. He would come home, watch some TV with dinner, clean up, and crawl into bed at ten with his phone. Dorian would call on the dot, always complaining about how bored he was.

"I think budget is more what they have in mind," Cullen said.

They hadn't spoken about their night together, or about anything either of them had said. Maybe it was better that way. Cullen wasn't sure. All he knew was that he enjoyed talking with Dorian, especially now it wasn't costing him a dime.

_"The last guard would at least play cards. This new one is terribly dull. Tell them to bring back Lace."_

"She had to return to her station. Great girl. Fond of her myself," Cullen said.

_"Oh, I see. I hadn't thought her your type, Detective. Giggly and girly."_

"With one of the best marksmanship scores in her division."

There was silence for a moment before Dorian spoke again, _"I thought you might be interested in something a little darker round the edges."_

"Oh? Do I know anyone like that?" Cullen teased.

_"I have it on very good authority that a very foolish man is searching for his Prince Charming."_

Cullen felt his heart clench in his chest. He still adored Dorian. The more he spoke to him, the more time they had spent together, and talking every night had done absolutely nothing to curtail his interest.

It was Dorian who pushed him away.

_"You've been nothing but supportive. I've never had someone care about me before. I find myself unsure of how to proceed. I find it hard to believe there could be more."_ It was the rawest Cullen had heard Dorian. Jokes stripped away, ego forced back as truth spilled forward.

"When I was talking to you on the phone I had in mind this perfect person...and I haven't been disappointed, Dorian. You're real and I--I want more. Maker, I've wanted so much more."

_"When this is over, perhaps you would agree to a foolish man taking you out to dinner, then?"_

Cullen grinned, couldn't keep it off his face. It felt like fate itself had pushed them together rather than a little white card Josephine handed him when he was lonely.

"That night...you did just what you told me you would do. I had bruises for days."

_"I thought you might realize. Come to your own conclusion. But I don't think your mind is capable of handling mysteries when someone is sucking on your glorious cock."_

Cullen hummed and closed his eyes. God, he remembered that. In stark detail for how drunk he had been. Remembered Dorian's hands on his arse and soft grey eyes staring up at him from behind dark lashes.

_"I could do that forever. I would never want anything more, just your cock. Perfect. I wanted you to gag me with it, push it as far as it would go, bring tears to my eyes as I sucked you down."_

"Maker! Dorian..." Cullen groaned. He reached down and shoved his free hand into his pants, stroking his dick as it filled.

_"I'd let you fuck me with it. Up on my hands and knees, grabbing my hair. I wouldn't be able to be quiet. Much like your own cries. So sweet I wanted to swallow each one until it was my own. You were so perfectly loud. Wanted to hear every sound you made. Wanted to wring them from you."_

Cullen heard clothing rustle and the catch in Dorian's voice. Maker, they were having phone sex. Together. He had never done this before, had no idea what to say but found he didn't have to. Dorian continued on for him, groaning low in his throat.

_"I bet you fuck good. All that tight discipline. Slow and steady and perfect. Knowing just where to hit, just how hard, fingers digging into my hips leaving bruises. I would feel you for days, every time I sat, with every step and I would come crawling back on my knees for more and more."_

Cullen couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed when he whimpered, the noise spilling out of him. He could see it, Dorian with his cat-like grace, lean body, and devilish smile. He stroked his cock faster, wringing his fist around the head. He heard Dorian gasp down the line and they had gone silent save for huffs of breath, rustling of clothes and covers. Cullen spread his legs wider, his imagination fitting Dorian between his thighs.

_"Cullen, be a good boy and come for me,"_ Dorian said, his voice tight.

The cords in his neck were standing out and his head tipped back as he felt the heat coalesce inside of him. He cried out part of Dorian's name, the rest caught wrapped up in a moan as he came into his hand. Down the line he heard Dorian's panting gasps, the choked out half-words that he tried to say. When he finally let go the moan Cullen heard was one of the most erotic things he could have ever imagined. He brought his hand to his lips, licking away his own come, imagining it was Dorian's. How would it taste?

Dorian gave a pleased little hum and Cullen held the phone closer, his heart still beating quick in his chest.

"I-I've never done that," Cullen admitted.

_"And I consider that a travesty. I'm glad to have rectified the situation."_

"How can you be so coherent after...after that!" Cullen asked and the smile on his face felt like it was permanently attached. His cheeks hurt.

_"Oh dear Cullen, I believe my mind to be at its best after a good fuck. Orgasm can bring out the best in us."_

Cullen covered his face with his hand, head pressed back into the pillow. He could feel sticky come drying against his thigh and on his wrist and his legs felt wobbly, too unsteady to get him to the bathroom, but it was fantastic. He felt light and carefree and maybe Dorian was right.

_"Does phone sex count as sex on the first date if it is before the first date?"_ Dorian asked. _"You are a gentleman; sex on the first date is likely out of the question."_

"I'm not always such a gentleman," Cullen said and he heard a quick inhale of breath from Dorian.

_"I suppose we shall find out. We shall just...overlook...this tiny indiscretion."_

"It will keep me sustained."

_"My, my, what have I gone and done. Released a beast?"_

Cullen thought he might be right.

* * *

 

_"She's not a bad woman, she is just under my father's thumb. We're not close."_

Cullen cradled the phone to his ear as he listened to Dorian talk. They could talk about nothing or they could talk about everything with ease. Just the sound of Dorian's voice was hypnotic.

_"I don't think I'll ever know what she wants from me. Whether she agrees with my father or not. I don't believe she would ever tell me. I'm not what either of them hoped for in a child."_

Cullen made a disapproving noise. Couldn't help it. He still hated the thought of Dorian having had gone through what he had just because his parents didn't approve of who he had sex with and maybe one day might love. Cullen's own parents might prefer he find a nice girl to settle down with but they would love him either way and they would never, ever, try to change him like Dorian's father had tried with him.

_"I do feel sorry for her, though. I'm not sure she will know what to do without Father. She was married to him when she turned 18. Arranged, of course. I dare say there is any real love there."_ Dorian yawned before he could continue. _"And now she is alone._ "

"You're exhausted," Cullen said. "You should try get some sleep."

_"And miss speaking with you? I'd go stark raving mad."_

Cullen couldn't keep the smile off his face. "Still, I would prefer you got a full night's sleep rather than talking to me past midnight."

Dorian went to answer but another yawn broke his words. The trials had been going on for over a month and didn't look like they were going to end any time soon. Halward Pavus had the best lawyers money could buy and until Dorian exposed his workings it had been impossible to pin anything on him. The rat scum of a man even tried to blame it all on his son before he realized that was going nowhere.

_"I do wish you were here,"_ Dorian said, his voice quiet.

"I wish I could be there for you," Cullen replied. "We are all proud of what you've done."

_"We? There is only one opinion I care for, dear Cullen."_

"I'm proud," he amended. "I know it's been hard but it will be over soon."

_"I do hope so. I don't think I can stand it much longer in these hotels. And my bed is dreadfully lonesome. My hand is a poor replica of your own."_

Cullen felt the heat rise up his neck and he tightened his hand on the phone. "I miss you, too," he said, feeling the tightness in his chest double until it threatened to overwhelm him.

_"Yes, I suppose I should say so, too. While I do miss your fantastic arse, I..."_ Dorian sighed. _"I do miss you. If you hadn't sent me a picture I doubt I could scarcely remember your face."_

Cullen bit at his lower lip. In the time they had been talking, Cullen hoped he had made it clear how interested he was in Dorian. They had told each other so much, of past loves and memories from long ago. Cullen wasn't sure he knew anyone as well as he knew Dorian. Maybe not even Josie. He had never been so frank with her, had skirted around telling her of Kinloch, left out large sections of his relationship with Hawke. There were things she wouldn't understand, things Dorian had never judged him for.

_"I hope you enjoyed my pictures just as much,"_ Dorian said and Cullen laughed. Dorian had sent along a picture of him in his high collared suit, looking for all the world the heir to a fortune, but the following pictures were for Cullen alone, including a dick pic Dorian had sent followed by a wink.

"I had to snatch the phone back from Josephine before she could scroll across," Cullen said. "She would have been horrified."

_"I can't imagine why. It is lovely."_

Cullen had to agree, but that was just one more thing he didn't need to share with Josie.

_"Tell me again how you used to look in your nursing scrubs. How in the good Maker's name you remained single before Hawke, I will never know."_

Cullen indulged him, telling him all about the uniform he had worn for so many years. Told him the best parts about nursing. Looking after people, watching them get better, their faces when they were told they could leave. He had wanted to help. Dorian had already heard about the bad parts, had heard about Kinloch and why Cullen quit nursing to join the police force. It had been years ago now but some memories he could remember like they happened yesterday. He remembered his first shift, so nervous he spilled pills and dropped bedpans. He remembered his last shift, wishing that he couldn't. Perhaps this was why he and Dorian understood each other.

Their lives hadn't been easy. They had survived traumas no one would wish upon another person. Maybe they had met right when they needed each other the most.

His life was different now. Now the only thing missing was the man at the other end of the line. The man...who was asleep.

Cullen smiled as he heard Dorian's soft snores down the line. He had dropped off somewhere among Cullen's tales. Cullen didn't blame him. He had been watching the trials progress, had read the papers, had inside knowledge that made its way down the chain of command and back to him. Dorian had been the picture of grace the entire time, even when his own father tried to pin the blame on him. It was only later, alone in his hotel room, that he would rant to Cullen about what his father had done.

Dorian deserved the rest. Cullen wished he could be there. He would bundle Dorian up in his arms and show Dorian just how proud he was. Quite a few of Cullen's recent dreams had explored exactly what he would do with Dorian. They were the best dreams he'd had in years.

The blankets shifted as Cullen rolled onto his side. He felt foolish, listening to Dorian sleep, yet he couldn't end the call. Instead he pressed the speaker button and set the phone on the pillow next to his. When he turned out the bedside lamp it was almost like Dorian was there. His quiet breaths filling the room and lulling Cullen to sleep.

* * *

 

Cullen wasn't a nervous man. He relied on his training, on his even temper, toughing it out in even the toughest situations. Except now he was wringing his hands together and fiddling with his hair, hoping that with more fussing it might sit right.

He was going on a date. With Dorian. And he couldn't be more nervous.

He didn't do dating. He and Hawke had never dated. Not like this anyway, with romantic dinners or walks by the docks, none of that. Dorian was cultured and Cullen was...not. He came from a small town with no discernible family legacy except that which he made. Though right now Dorian was likely cursing his family legacy. Only recently free after the lengthy trials, he had been hounded by the media in Denerim. He hadn't been able to step outside his hotel without being accosted.

Cullen paced across his living room floor. What if the media saw them together? What if they were followed? What if--

The doorbell.

Cullen took a deep breath, straightened his tie, and opened the door to Dorian, who leaned against the doorframe with a casual grace he had to be born with. His slim fitting leather jacket was the perfect amount of formal and casual, tight black jeans hugging every inch of his long legs. Cullen breathed in and found his voice stuck somewhere in his throat. Dorian just grinned at him, took Cullen by his tie, and led him back inside.

"Miss me?" Dorian asked and closed the door behind them. He shrugged off his leather jacket in the warm room and dropped it on the couch along with a parcel wrapped in brown paper and string. Cullen didn't get a chance to ask what it was.

Dorian slid his hands along the silken shirt Cullen was wearing and pushed him up against the door, claiming his lips in a bruising kiss. His hands wandered, down to Cullen's belt, round his ribs, up his back and across his shoulder blades. Cullen wasn't sure what to do with his own hands, fists curling as he was pressed back against the door. Dorian pulled back an inch, lips still hovering close enough that Cullen could feel his words. "We have some catching up to do."

Cullen nodded, only realizing somewhere in the back of his mind that he was still to say a word. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Welcome back," he said with a rough voice, Dorian pulled away and laughed and Cullen wasn't sure it was all that funny but Dorian patted his cheek and placed another quick kiss on his lips.

"You wouldn't believe the time I've had," Dorian said as he turned. He took in the house, admiring the leather couch with a sweep of his hand. "I'm not at all displeased to be back in sleepy little Haven. Though I hear congratulations are in order, Inspector."

" _Detective_ Inspector," Cullen corrected and Dorian fanned himself with a pleased moan.

"Perhaps I can get you into that lovely dress uniform. You do know what they say about a man in uniform."

Cullen let Dorian inspect his home. From green house plants to big screen TV and the pictures on the mantle. His fingers seemed to itch, to want to touch. Dorian picked up the one of the Kirkwall gang, bringing it into the light.

"Kirkwall," Cullen explained. "Ten years... Went by quick."

"I'm familiar with the city," Dorian said but he didn't at all sound pleased. Not that Cullen could blame him. Kirkwall wasn't even good enough for the dogs.

Dorian returned the picture to its nook, ensuring it was perfectly aligned with the other frames. Whether he approved of the home or not, Cullen wasn't entirely sure. He thought back to his old flat, with the yellowed curtains and dead pot plant. Dorian definitely wouldn't have approved.

Dorian took a seat on the couch. He looked tired, lying his head back against the sofa and closing his eyes, the tautness still in his shoulders. Cullen had only seen him like this in his station when he had made his statements. He had been stressed like this for months now. Cullen sat next to him on the couch, unsure of how close to sit, so he chose a respectful distance, not too close, not too far. He wanted to be closer, wanted their thighs to touch, wanted to put his arm around Dorian.

"If tonight is too much for you--"

"I must ask you something," Dorian interrupted.

Fear clenched in Cullen's chest. What if Dorian didn't want to do this? What if he wanted to call off the date? They had been talking for months, sharing stories of their childhoods and families. Cullen couldn't bear it if it were all to just end. "All right..." he said, but his voice betrayed him. He sounded terrified.

Dorian leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him and he didn't meet Cullen's eyes. "What is this?" he asked.

Cullen frowned. "This?"

"What we're doing? This. Because I... If this is just fooling around then I should want to know now before...feelings...get involved."

Cullen felt hot in his shirt. Could feel himself sweating along his neck. Feelings were already involved. His feelings had been involved since he began talking to Dorian all those months ago. "I thought you understood my feelings," Cullen said. "Dorian, I told you, I want more."

Dorian had a fragile smile on his face. "You know who I am. Who my family is. I've been told my whole life that something like this with another man is...impossible. My own father tried to change me."

Cullen shifted closer now and placed his hand on Dorian's knee. Just a small comfort.

"He'll die in prison now and I'm not sorry. He deserves nothing less. And yet I can't get his words to follow him. And I ask myself what I can truly have with someone like you. Someone who is good and kind and--"

Cullen tipped Dorian's head up with careful fingers beneath his chin and leaned forward and kissed him. He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, but it felt like the right thing. He stroked at Dorian's cheek, keeping his kiss simple, just a steady press of his lips.

"My feelings are already involved," Cullen said, drawing back. Dorian's hands held him, fingers in Cullen's hair, not letting him go too far. "You have me, if you want me."

Dorian lunged forward again, kissing him with fervor. He wrapped his arms around Cullen's neck, fingers brushing against the soft hair at his nape. Dorian pressed them back to the couch, the leather creaking in protest. Buttons were pulled from their holes and Dorian grasped Cullen's tie with one hand, like a leash. His hand splayed across Cullen's exposed chest and trailed down to his abdomen, pressing lightly.

"I find my thoughts plagued by you. In these months you have scarcely left my mind," Dorian whispered against his ear. "I've wanted to tell you so badly. I want more...with you. If you will have me."

Cullen couldn't help his smile. He ran his thumb across the beauty mark beside Dorian's eye and down his cheek to his lips, brushing back and forth carefully. It got Dorian to smile and he closed his eyes when he leaned forward to kiss Cullen once again.

"Perhaps dinner can wait?" Cullen asked and Dorian grinned.

"But how will I ever get you into bed if we haven't had our first date?" Dorian asked. He wound Cullen's tie around his hand and pulled a little so that Cullen rose to meet him.

"I don't think that will be an issue," Cullen said.

"Being bad, are we, Inspector?"

"Detective Inspector," Cullen corrected again and smiled as Dorian nipped at his jaw, lips trailing down to his neck, pulling aside the collar of his shirt to bite down. He groaned and held Dorian to him. This was it. This was what he wanted. He didn't want silly awkward dates and meaningless sex. He hadn't felt this close to a person since Hawke. Hadn't known someone inside and out and let himself be known in turn. And Dorian still wanted him. Wanted him after he had cried down the line as he recalled Kinloch, wanted him after his rage at Hawke caught up with him and he ranted for a good hour about what a terrible partner Hawke had been at the end. Dorian had listened through it all and still wanted him.

"How about we order some food in?" Cullen suggested. He ran his hands up Dorian's back. "There is a great Rivaini place that delivers."

"Perfect," Dorian said with a definite purr of enthusiasm. He made it as difficult as possible for Cullen to order, sliding Cullen's tie off and opening his shirt wide so that Dorian could get at his chest, covering it with his undivided attention. He was sure he moaned into the phone at least once and Dorian cast a wicked grin up at Cullen, thoroughly pleased with himself.

Hands wandered and shirts and shoes were cast aside. When the doorbell rang, Dorian had his hand down Cullen's trousers and pouted when he had to remove it.

It didn't feel awkward. There were no lingering silences, there was no stilted conversation. Dorian talked as he ate, gesturing wildly with his fork and stealing food off Cullen's plate. Cullen knew they would fall into bed together later, happy and sated in many ways. He found himself smiling at the thought. It had been two years since he had someone in his bed. Two long, lonely years.

He had started his life again. Cast aside the shadows of Kirkwall and Kinloch and found something else. Something better. He couldn't say he owed it all to Dorian but he had certainly added incentive.

And when he woke the next morning, just as happy and sated as he expected, Dorian was waving a package in front of his face. Cullen looked up. Dorian was naked as the day he was born, stretched out next to him atop the duvet. Cullen was far more interested in him than the package. When he reached out from the covers to grab at Dorian, the package was shoved into his hands.

"Uh-uh, not before you open my gift."

"I thought I got my gift last night," Cullen said. Dorian grinned like a demon.

"And I still ache from it. But I come bearing many gifts for you, Amatus."

Cullen felt the heat rise up his chest and neck. He pulled the duvet higher to hide his blush and then slipped the string from around the parcel. The paper fell away and inside was a photo frame. A frame with a simple white card inside with dark numbers in stark relief.

 

 

 

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] You (Do) Know You Want To Call (Me, Don't You)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9124348) by [RsCreighton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RsCreighton/pseuds/RsCreighton), [SomethingIncorporeal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomethingIncorporeal/pseuds/SomethingIncorporeal)




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